


Tea & Insanity

by Viridian5



Series: Tea for Three [1]
Category: due South
Genre: Crack Fic, Humor, M/M, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-06-06
Updated: 2000-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 09:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser and Turnbull have plans for Ray.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea & Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for "Asylum."
> 
> The tea place is inspired by my own time at New York City's Tea &amp; Sympathy, but Tea &amp; Sympathy doesn't have vanilla maple tea; that was something my brother once brought back from a trip to Vermont.
> 
> Thanks to Kasha for reading, making good suggestions, and asking me to finish, even if she _really_ doesn't like threesomes. At all. Really. Consider this another graduation present.
> 
> Maybe Fraser's jeans aren't _always_ really, really tight, but here Ray's thoughts are tending in a certain direction.... Thus, ever-tight jeans. Get it? Good.
> 
> A Manic!Viridian production.

"So, where are we going?" I asked as I rubbed my gloved hands together. February in Chicago sucked. Life would be much nicer if I could drive right up to the door of wherever they were taking me and get out, but, no, we had walking to do.

Fraser just smiled, while Turnbull said, "It's an outpost of civilization."

"What is?"

"The place we're going to."

I did a very showy look at the city around us before asking, "And this is, what, wilderness?"

Turnbull smiled at me like I was a puppy who'd just done a trick right. "Precisely, Ray."

Well, I'd asked. "I'm looking for details here."

"Oh, you'll like it. I like it."

I looked to Fraser for help, but he just said, "I concur with Ren. I believe that you'll like our destination."

"But it has to be a surprise?"

"Surprises keep life interesting."

"No, surprises usually mean ya think I'll run like hell if I knew what we were gonna do."

"Hardly, Ray."

I sighed and gave up. Sometimes outstubborning him took too much exertion to be worth it. Thinking myself warm might work better.

Walking around with them made me feel like a target since everybody noticed us. Bad enough with just Fraser and Dief, but when a guy walked down the street bookended by two huge Mounties and an unleashed half-wolf, people stared. What really made it funny was that Fraser and Turnbull weren't even in uniform but people just knew, even while they weren't sure what they were reacting to and why. Yeah, they saw two good-looking guys, but they had this attitude of respect going too. A... subliminal thing, I guessed. Fraser and Turnbull's Mountie-ness still blazed out.

Tonight they both wore their Stetsons and pea coats but otherwise went for streetwear. Yeah, a pea coat would be streetwear for most folks, but theirs looked official, uniform-like, somehow anyway. Turnbull wore Fraser-style jeans, which meant that they were so tight you could see his pulse and know which side he dressed on.

I didn't mind most of the time--hell, it was damned scenic--but tonight the two of them going around dressed like that made me itch. I had to get a grip. Oh God, no. Change the subject.

I didn't know where they were taking me, but I assumed it was some kind of Mountie hangout or something. I knew Fraser had things he did off-duty, usually with Turnbull, when I couldn't be around, and I wanted to see what they were. The way they both did this Cheshire Cat grin thing in my direction when they thought I wasn't looking made me wonder, though. Mounties with secret agendas, go figure.

I should probably be terrified.

We stopped at a storefront and walked into a tiny room crowded with tables. My Mountie escorts removed their hats at the same time like the crack, well-oiled unit they were. I just rolled my eyes.

The place looked like some English granny's room with its porcelain knickknacks on wall shelves and the tiny versions of the Union Jack set here and there. All the customers had teacups and pots in front of them. "Civilization"... or the Twilight Zone. But it was warm and cozy.

"Ren, Benton! It's nice to see you again. Hello, Diefenbaker." The cute blond hostess had a nice accent, not the "official" English accent but nice. Down, Ray. She crouched down to pet Dief a bit. Lucky dog.

"Good evening, Anne," Fraser said as he shook her hand.

"Likewise, Anne," Turnbull said before he kissed her hand. "Have they changed your schedule again?"

"I'm afraid so. Shame on you for coming by when you thought I wouldn't be in."

"In this case, we're simply working with Ray's schedule. This is Raymond Vecchio, and he'll be joining us."

You knew you were out with Mounties when they introduced you to the hostess. "Uh, hi. I'm kind of a newbie here."

She smiled at me. _Down_, Ray. "You couldn't have picked better guides." She led us over to a small table by the window. The Canadians would probably like the draft. "Your favorite table is empty."

"Thank you, Anne," Fraser said.

"Just let me know when you're ready to order."

Fraser and Turnbull sat on one side of the table, me and Dief on the other. Yeah, Dief sat on the chair next to mine and made like he was looking at the menu. Fraser said he could read maps....

My breath caught as I felt something slowly brush across my leg under the table. Fraser, sitting right across from me, gave me this look of clueless angelic innocence. Me, if I still had a halo it would be tarnished and hanging crooked over my head, but I polished it up and gave him my own best innocent look as I indulged in a long leg rub right back. His eyes closed a little and may have even smoldered. Oh yeah. Now we're getting somewhere.

But we had Turnbull sitting right nearby, and it didn't feel right playing footsie in front of him, so I stopped. Just before I buried my eyes in the menu, I noticed the disappointment that quickly slid across Fraser's face and smiled. Turnbull had this odd look on _his_ face. Kind of... amused? Hmm.

Anyway, the menu. One scan showed me terrors beyond imagining. I mean, kidney pie? No thanks.

Fraser must have seen my expression, because he said, "We're here for scones and tea. You can pick your own tea."

Oh, can I? Looked like my Mounties were taking me in hand. Oh, damn, bad thought. Okay then, it looked like they were getting me scones. I just wished I knew what Fraser and Turnbull had planned here.

I didn't know this many kinds of tea existed. What the hell were "typhoo" and "lapsang souchong" anyway? Finally the waitress came back, so I had to make a choice. "I'll have the strawberry kiwi."

"Excellent choice, Ray," Turnbull said. "That's an herbal tea with no caffeine."

"You trying to say something here?"

Turnbull smiled. "Not at all. I'll have the Earl Grey, Anne."

Fraser said, "Vanilla maple for me--"

"Fraser, ya don't have to be patriotic 24 hours a day."

"Very amusing, Ray, but I simply enjoy the flavor. Anne, I'd also like a plate of scones for each of us, please. Thank you."

We passed the time with small talk, mostly work-related. Fraser and Turnbull saw some weird shit while standing guard duty at the consulate. At least nobody had been stupid enough to do anything illegal in front of them yet. Who'd decided to relocate the consulate a few blocks from the 'hood anyway?

The talking was... nice. Pleasant-like. Normal life, or close to it. But Fraser seemed nervous and restrained, and it wasn't about having Turnbull around, because we'd gone out with Turnbull before. I started to worry.

Anne brought our stuff in twenty minutes. To my surprise, we each got a small pot of tea. Fraser's was plain navy blue, Turnbull's was a gilded deep red with flowers, while mine was white with a bridge and countryside drawn on it in medium blue. Mum would like it. We got mismatched cups too. Homey and funky all at once. A strainer with a cap came with each for some reason, but that probably had something to do with the total lack of tea bags. I'd never done tea that didn't come in a bag on a string before. Three scones on a plate with a small cup of strawberry jam and some kind of cream came next.

Anne leaned the butter knife on what looked like a tiny, metal barbell on the table, I guess so the end I used for the cream and jam didn't end up on the table. Wonder if Stella knew about these.

Déjà vu hit me, taking me back to time served at fancy dinners trying to figure out which fork went with what dish. I'd hated that, especially since I couldn't shake the feeling that people around us wondered if Stel had just hired me off the street for the night. I knew she hadn't been thrilled with my early performances even though she did try to put a good face on it. I could see I was costing her with the people she was trying to impress, and I couldn't let that happen. So I'd made it into a kind of undercover assignment and learned by watching, being careful all the while not to get caught at it. It worked there; it would work here.

"Is something wrong, Ray?" Fraser asked.

"Nah. Just deep thought."

Watching them showed me that I should use the strainer every time I poured myself some tea. Good thing too, since bits of leaves and small tattered chunks of actual strawberry came out the spout along with the red-pink tea. Looking into the pot--because I couldn't help myself--showed me something that resembled a forest pond, clogged with leaf shreds.

Fraser looked kind of amused and affectionate at me all at once. So much for not making a spectacle of myself. But Turnbull said, "I think my own resembles mud," and lifted his strainer to show me. Good guy. Fraser's displayed tea mud looked lighter and less gritty and smelled like a leisurely breakfast from the maple.

Four teaspoons of sugar later, I had something in my cup that tasted like hot fruit punch. Not bad, especially for the winter. It left me feeling warm and full on the inside. I'd have to keep it in mind.

The scones tasted like really dry and crumbly buttermilk biscuits, but they were good with the jam. The sourish cream did nothing for me with them. Sour cream went with lots of things, just not biscuits. Fraser and Turnbull topped theirs with cream and jam.

Dief kept making sad, hungry puppy eyes at my scones, which was just selfish since Anne had brought him a nice chew-bone. He leaned halfway into my lap and did his "I love you; ain't I cute" routine, the one he always did when I had something he wanted. With the way he kept nuzzling my neck and kneading my crotch with his paws, it looked like he was willing to put out for a scone. With jam, since we shared a sweet tooth. It took skill to keep my tea safe.

Left to myself, I'd give him a little piece. With Fraser watching, it wouldn't happen.

"Diefenbaker, show some dignity, please," Fraser said.

The half-wolf grumbled, gave me one last pleading look to let me know he'd be under the table if I changed my mind or could find a way to sneak him some, got off me, and settled back down to his bone, shooting reproachful looks at Fraser now and then.

"Ray, I commend you on your way with a teacup," Turnbull said.

"That was just balance. I'm used to fighting Dief off."

"No, I meant that you seem to be knowledgeable in the ways of a cup and saucer. I am impressed." He seemed to mean it seriously.

He was right too, though. I'd even remembered the bit with the pinky. "Mum trained me well." If I had a nickel for every time I'd heard "You want some tea, Stanley?" before I moved out on my own, I'd be living the life of Riley on my own tropical island now. "A lot of big tea drinkers on her side of the family, and they took it seriously. It actually pissed them off that the folks on Dad's drank theirs so weak that it was almost colored water. To keep the peace I learned to--" Shoot, I couldn't find a way to say this that didn't sound like a double entendre. To be switchable? To take it both ways?

Once Turnbull realized that I'd stopped because I needed a rescue party and he could politely cut in, he said, "Considerate of you to take cues from them."

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks."

"Yet I can understand that kind of dedication. Tea really should not be briefly dipped into the water."

I shrugged. I would have liked to see someone tell that to, say, Aunt Olya. She could bench-press me. Hell, she could bench-press Turnbull.

Turnbull continued, "A connoisseur can immediately detect differences in brand, water quality, and a number of other factors."

I just _had_ to say, "Must be one really sensitive tongue you got there." Oh, Lord. Only good thing here had to be that this hole I was digging would be deep enough to throw myself into afterward. Then maybe I could pat the dirt back down over me so I could hide....

And so much for Mr. Innocent across from me, whose bland Mountie face showed some cracks. I'd be annoyed that he found this funny if the very fact of him _getting_ it, against everything he usually said, didn't give me such a jolly. Maybe it would fly over Turnbull's head, since his mind couldn't be as dirty as mine. Or Fraser's, it turns out.

Turnbull gave me an intense, earnest look and said, "You're not the first to say so. It requires a great deal of experience. Practice. Sampling." Usual expression, yeah. But his voice slid low and deep. It _did_ things. Things that made me feel he'd left the topic of tea far behind.

The part of me saying, C'mon, it's Turnbull, kept getting drowned out by the part of me that wanted to sprawl invitingly in my seat. I'd already started. Damn.

I almost jumped when I felt a stroking hand on my knee. Of the two Mounties across from me, only Fraser had one hand out of sight. I smiled lazily. Turnbull nodded and signaled the waitress to get us the bill.

I started to see the lay of the land. Sneaky Mounties. Not that I minded much.

Not that I intended to make things--and myself--too easy on them.

  


* * *

They played normal all the way to my apartment. Nothing different going on here, no sir. Never mind how hard a time I had concentrating on my driving while I kept distracting myself with thoughts of what might come next. Or might not come next. With them being so normal--well, Canadian Mountie normal--I started to wonder if I'd imagined it all.

Hot- and cold-running Mounties are evil, I tell you.

I didn't know what to do with myself once I let them into the apartment. I couldn't offer them tea because we'd just had it. As we all took off our coats, I wondered how long they'd leave me hanging on the hook.

"Ray?"

When I turned to face Fraser, he pulled me into a kiss and embrace. He tasted like Sunday morning breakfast. Oh yeah, the vanilla maple tea. I gave myself up to him.

Fraser's hands all over me left me so distracted that I didn't notice he was pushing me backward until I bumped up against something. Wall? No, too lumpy, especially at this one point where it dug into my back. Too... Turnbull? I think I may have squeaked in surprise--smooth, Ray--but the squeak turned into another sound as his big hands came around my waist and started to unbutton my fly. He was helping Fraser, his higher-up. That's really... well, actually it was kind of fucking strange.

We are Mountie; you will be assimilated?

How many other things did they do together?

And Turnbull sure as hell wasn't clumsy anymore, not with how fast and gracefully he had his hand in my pants.

So I had almost every inch of me covered in hot Mountie, and, big old slut that I was, I was enjoying the hell out of myself. If they wanted to make me the filling in a Mountie sandwich, who was I to argue? They smelled like wool and pine, the good things about winter, and they had that blanket thing _down_.

Fraser took a break from working over my mouth and grinding against me to ask, "Is this okay with you, Ray?" I never heard him sound so husky and darkly sexy before.

He wanted me to talk now? "Yeah, oh yeah," I managed to gasp out.

Licking his lips, he smiled and moved out of arm's reach. "Are you sure?"

If I didn't have Turnbull holding on and stroking me for dear life, I'd throw myself at Fraser. Whether to jump him or kill him, I couldn't say. Maybe I'd jump him, then kill him. But Turnbull made the whole thing moot anyway. "Yeah, I'm sure. I've never been so damned sure of anything in my life. Now get back here!"

"You are being a trifle cruel," Turnbull said against the top of my head. Sexed up as I was, even his breath against my scalp made me crazy.

"Perhaps. I'm told anticipation adds spice. You've never complained before, Ren."

"My own personal experience suggests that you're correct, sir."

"He calls ya 'sir' during sex too?" I had to ask.

"Sometimes," Fraser said. "Sometimes I call him 'sir.' It all works out in reciprocation."

Oh God. I was in the hands of loonies. They were going to torture me to death.

But then Fraser moved up against me again. This time I grabbed him and clutched his shirt to keep him where I wanted him. My attempt couldn't match the six-foot-plus Mountie holding me from behind, keeping _me_ still and distracted, but I didn't have their resources, so I did my best with what I had.

But the way I was holding on was interfering with him getting me stripped. He actually looked frustrated. Turnbull said, "I do believe that Ray wears more layers of clothing than we do. I count four."

With two pairs of hands on me, I figured it had to be a show of strength and iron will that I gasped out, "It's winter, okay? Geez." Hell, just finishing a thought, never mind a sentence, had to be a sign of stamina.

"We'll try to keep you warm then," Fraser said in a husky, sexy voice, but his dark honey tone turned exasperated as he asked, "Ray, how can it be that you never wear anything that unbuttons from the front?"

Oh yeah. They'd have to pull everything off over my head. "That's not true. Some of my jeans and pants do."

"He is correct, sir."

"Thanks, Turnbull," I said with a smirk. "Look, if you two can back offa my irresistible body or whatever for a few seconds, I'll do this, okay?"

They moved away, giving me space. Amazing how cold it felt in here without them.

I managed to grip all four of the layers' hems with my hands and shuck them off in one shot. It was a talent, you know? As the last of it cleared my head, I could see Fraser looking at me hungrily, like I was the special of the day and he hadn't eaten in a long time. I could _feel_ Turnbull looking at the back of me.

It felt kind of awkward--me half-naked with my fly open and dick out while the two of them were fully dressed and staring at me--like in those nightmares where you're at school butt naked and everyone notices. But then Fraser reached out and tried to smooth my wildly mussed hair down, which worked about as well as that ever worked. I couldn't help grinning.

They must have decided all at once that they weren't being hospitable enough to me because they started to take off their clothes at the same time, like it wouldn't be polite to be dressed when your host wasn't. If synchronized speed-stripping ever became an Olympic sport, I had Canada's team captains right here. It was like being in the eye of a Mountie tornado. I guess you learned to strip fast out there in the Canadian cold to keep your goodies safe. Even watching them, I had no idea how they could peel out of those tight jeans so quickly. Practice, I guess. They didn't seem to be setting out to do it sexy, but all that bending and flexing had an effect anyway.

Once I had my own pants off, I stood back and did the appreciative audience thing. I didn't know what had been in that tea or how long it would last, but I intended to ride this roller coaster as far as it would go.

Fraser turned out to be as beautiful as I expected, but Turnbull.... Geez, the guy was hung like a bull. Everything on him was big.

"Is this better, Ray?" Fraser asked.

"Oh, much." As long as I didn't think about what Turnbull might want me to do with that thing. "So what's yer plan of attack here?"

"Ray?"

"Choreography. Moves. How are ya gonna work this with the three of us?"

"What do you want?"

I wanted everything, but that didn't really tell him much. Well, they were being so cool and unshockable about all this that I decided to go in for the kill, see if I could get that calm look to shatter. "I want you to fuck me, Fraser."

I did get that brief look of surprise from him before he licked his bottom lip and said, "That could be arranged."

I shivered. "Cool. You got any things you wanna do here, Turnbull?"

"I'm more than content with sucking you, detective," Turnbull answered in his usual tone.

I just about choked. "Sounds like you had that one ready."

"I regret to say that I wasn't able to keep my eyes averted the whole time you were changing into my uniform that day."

"How could you? You were helping me put yer uniform on."

"I took a few liberties I didn't have to."

I must have fallen into the Mirror Universe; it was the only explanation. And I'm complaining?

"As I've had more time to think about the logistics here, I do believe I have a course of action planned out," Fraser said. "Ray, if you would be so kind as to brace yourself against the wall? Face the wall and position yourself as if you were a suspect about to be frisked."

"He always this bossy?" I asked Turnbull.

"The payback makes it worth it," Turnbull answered.

Okay, now I _had_ to do this. "You particular about which wall too, Fraser?"

"I leave the choice of wall to your discretion."

"Well, geez, thank you kindly." I faced the wall and braced myself as ordered--legs spread, ass hanging out--and waited for what came next. I hope they remembered I'm not very patient. The wall felt tacky under my sweaty palms.

"Excuse me, Ray," Turnbull said as he briefly moved me aside to settle on his knees in front of me. I started to see where things were going here.

I heard Fraser moving around a ways behind me. "You getting properly prepared back there?" I asked.

"Of course, Ray."

But when I began to turn my head to look, Turnbull grabbed my hips and started to tongue my bellybutton. My already hard cock twitched more--trying to get his attention, I guess--but the bellybutton thing felt much better than I expected. His short hair brushing my skin helped. The moan that came out surprised me, but the way my legs spread themselves didn't. They're no dummies. Turnbull rewarded my behavior by stroking my balls as his tongue fucked the last place I figured would appreciate it.

Turns out that he was the diversion, because when Fraser started to nibble at my neck, I nearly jumped in surprise. As he kissed his way down my spine, his hands stroked my front on the way down too.

"Do you like this, Ray?" Fraser murmured against the small of my back as his hands ghosted over my ribs so lightly that it made me shiver.

"Yeah, yeah, what do you think?" I rasped.

Fraser kissed his way down my ass, making me wonder if he was going to end up where it looked like he was gonna end up. Then he did end up there, making me jump with a hot puff of breathe before applying his tongue, swirling around and around before thrusting in. Oh, yeah.... I only had enough brainpower to remember maybe one word at the point, so I kept groaning "more" over and over. At the point, Turnbull gripped the base of my cock in one of his big hands--which I appreciated since I didn't want this party to end too soon, even if it was torture--before applying his mouth to my balls, licking them like a cat would, sucking one in, then the other.... Wow. Get three guys with an oral fixation in a room together, and stand back. Being attacked on two fronts, I didn't know which way I should move my hips.

When Fraser switched to fingers, I gave up on pretending I wasn't some kind of slut and just let myself push down onto them. Okay, I wasn't pretending too well before that, but now I let myself totally go. I mean, he had nice, thick fingers, and they knew exactly where to go. At first I thought that tingling in my spine came from being worked over so thoroughly, but then I realized that Fraser was murmuring something into the small of my back again. I liked it; I really liked it.

I felt like I should be doing something besides just standing there and taking it, but I really couldn't think much beyond that over the lust pounding through my body. I know I would have lost it totally when Fraser asked, "Are you ready, Ray?" if Turnbull didn't have such a firm grip on me.

I think I answered something like "Mmmm" or maybe it was "Guh," but Fraser got the point. He slid his fingers out and slid his cock in so slowly I thought I would vibrate apart from impatience. I was so close to _enough_.... I tried to move to speed things along, but Turnbull managed to hold me in place with just one hand on my hip. Well, that and the other thing he had gripped, which I was kind of attached to.

Fraser chuckled against my neck. "Patience," he said softly. My muttering about being tortured amused him too. "Ren?"

Both of them sort of purred and growled at the same time as Turnbull finally sucked my cock in and Fraser started to move. I almost fell apart at the way it all felt all at once. Fraser started slow and too gentle but quickly picked up speed. I moaned something about him going harder on me, and he did, letting me feel it all through my body. The perfect slide of Fraser inside me and me inside Turnbull's soft, slick mouth... It was too good and almost too much.

And it was a good thing I had Turnbull's grip on my hip, my hands braced against and sticking to the wall, and Fraser's cock pushing me up to keep me standing because I'd just be a puddle on the floor otherwise. No way to think or stand or breathe under the lust and everything I was feeling. Pleasure kept coming at me from all directions: pressure and friction sliding at my sweet spot from the inside, Fraser's teeth at my neck and fingers pinching my nipples, Turnbull's hot mouth, tongue, and hand around my dick while his short hair brushed against my skin.

Then Turnbull's hand let go of my dick.

I came so hard I thought it would kill me, like it had ripped my spine out and taken my brain with it. Or it could just be the force of Fraser crying my name and letting go into me. White out. When I came to feeling like warm and happy jelly, I had Turnbull kissing my mouth hungrily and thrusting against me until he shot off too. He tasted like strawberry jam and me. From the lazy, almost uncoordinated way Fraser moved behind me, it seemed that he felt knocked out too, which made me feel kind of smug.

I wanted to sleep like this, resting against Turnbull's broad chest with Fraser draped across my back. Warm....

I vaguely heard a "Sir, I think we'll have to--" before a post-mindblowing-sex coma put weights on my eyelids and dragged me under.

  


* * *

Toasty warm, I woke up held in somebody's deathgrip around my waist. Since it's been forever since I woke up with anyone, it took me a while to even figure out who it could be. I mean, I don't think a burglar would snuggle with me after he broke in. He, yeah. It was definitely a man. Fraser? But no, when I opened my eyes I saw a very tousled and self-satisfied Fraser lying in front of me and a bit underneath me. _That_ was why my "pillow" felt so warm and firm.

Guess he'd been watching me sleep. Sweet. And kind of creepy too, but in a Fraser way. Then I remembered everything. That made it Turnbull who was spooned against me and sighing in my ear. And pressing a budding hard-on against my leg.

While Dief sat and stared at us from the end of the bed.

Weirdness. "Uh, hi."

Fraser smiled, all sunny, and stroked my hair. "Did you sleep well, Ray?"

"Like a rock." I wanted to play it cool and wait a bit, but Fraser looked so normal about all this that I blurted out, "You two do this often or what, you and Turnbull?"

"Ren and I have been involved on a recreational basis for some time now."

"Recreational? The Canadian government doesn't let you guys go to a gym like anyone else?"

"Our Chicago consulate is woefully underfunded."

"Huh. Yer kidding with me."

"Yes, Ray. We are offered a comprehensive fitness program. However, the consulate is indeed underfunded, and Turnbull and I do have an understanding."

Oh. Suddenly I had to revise my thoughts of them passing time with tea, talk, and checkers to them doing naked Mountie Twister. It was disturbing and hot all at once.

I was getting used to that.

"In any case," Fraser continued, probably unaware of the hamster wheels spinning in my head, "I confided my feelings for you to Ren, and he decided to help me out."

"By holding me in place in case I tried to run away?"

"I should say not. Well... maybe."

"Yer not one of those people who needs someone else watching to be able to get it on, are ya?" I gave it a moment, weighing what I thought of it. "'Cause I'm okay with that too. I just wanna know."

"Not at all. I just knew that I would be far less likely to back down from my resolution to let you know how I feel if Ren stood nearby watching."

"And much harder to back down if he's participating, right?"

Fraser shifted. It could be from emotional discomfort or the way that my bed was too small for three grown people and he had his ass kind of hanging out over the edge. "Are you upset about that, Ray?"

I couldn't help thinking about the solid feel of Turnbull at my back, his large hands roaming all over me, his mouth on my.... "Uh, no. A guy just likes to know where he stands, how his dance card is filled. If I'm with ya or just some fancy sextoy you and Turnbull decided to try out."

I was still in too much shock over the way that the world had turned tumblesaults today to even know how I felt about that little possibility. I couldn't see them doing that to me, though.

"You make a spectacular sextoy."

"Uh, thanks. No one ever told me that before." That's for sure.

"People don't compliment you enough." Fraser stroked my hair again and smiled at it. It made me wonder how many directions it was spiking out in. "I care very deeply about you. We care."

"I'm a well-loved sextoy?"

"Among other things." Fraser kissed me again. "You'd like to know if we shall always be three together?"

"I wondered."

"What do you want to do?"

"It's all up to me?"

"I believe that Ren should have some say, but much of it is up to you."

"Wow."

"He's quite open-minded."

"Is that so?"

"Of course. He's Canadian."

"Sounds like yer slamming Americans, but I'll let it slide since I feel so good."

It didn't take much thought to come up with an answer. I mean, I was lying here warm and comfy, snuggled between two people I liked who'd gone all out for me. Been a long time since I felt this cared for. Contented.

"Things have been good so far," I said. "I wanna keep going on like this if you guys are okay with it."

"I think you'll be pleased with the results, Ray," Turnbull said into my ear.

"You been shamming all this time?"

"Ray?" Turnbull asked.

"Pretending to be asleep but actually awake and listening in."

"I regret to say that I was awake but lazing about out of indolence and a nearly obscene self-satisfaction."

"Sure. I'm gonna have to give ya twenty lashes with a wet noodle for that."

"Would you really?"

Oh, brother. But I could feel him smiling into my neck, so I knew he was just kidding with me. Fraser was grinning like a loon too, but he did it where I could see him. He gave me this slow, slow kiss that made me need to see him the next time he did me.

Hey, there was going to be a next time.

But I had to lay some ground rules first. "So we're good. But I don't want things to get weird on the job. I mean, things are already weird with you, Fraser, but I mean I don't want them to get weird where what we do after hours gets in the way."

"Understood. Commendable thought."

Hmm. It seemed like Fraser was throwing a lot of understandings and compliments my way since I put out. Maybe I'd have to test that little theory out. Sounded like fun.

I realized that Turnbull was throwing Fraser a saucy look over my shoulder. Fraser moved closer to me and asked, "Are you quite recovered, Ray?"

"Only one way to find out," I said.

I vaguely heard Dief whine and skedaddle off the bed as my guys converged on me. As Turnbull nibbled on my ear and ground against me, while Fraser kissed and stroked the hell out of me, I briefly wondered if this meant I had a harem of Mounties or they had me as a kept pet.

Oh hell, I could figure it out later if I still cared.

 

### End


End file.
